


Blur.

by Heartswell



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-07
Updated: 2008-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-26 09:18:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartswell/pseuds/Heartswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank wakes up in the midst of the mist saturated room attempting to gather the shattered hurt of last night's memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blur.

Everything started as a cloud of vaporous thoughts and ended as color doused blurs and kisses.  
Lust defined kisses and rays of yellow obtruded and tarnished our eyes as the sun invited itself ever so rudely, ignoring our half-asleep figures spread across the crème sheets.

The steady sound of his breaths tipped my fluttering eyelids open, just to see his shielded flames of eyes; the eyes that sung me lullabies to my numb timely death. I recalled them though all of it was just a  _blur_.  
They were the stares that embraced my shyness and snuck so gently around the waistline of my insecurities, then peeled it off so slowly; so teasingly.

The eyes and windows of my  _almost lover._

 _The word lover was almost too sweet._  Words sigh within my mind as I watch the rays of sun sweeping at his round peaceful face and reflect on the tangled locks of black displaying shades of electric blue against the dyed hair in beautifully drawn contrast. Every detail of that picturesque illusion around him exposed itself to me, unashamed and uncaring.

 _Peaceful but not in any aspect angelic._

He was just... Gerard Way. A facade of clever tricks to lure me back in; to drag me back to his bed, to this scene of dried sweat and cold stinging our feet and backs as we lay here; exposed, naked, feeling each others' heaving chests with shaky blessed fingertips.

Way had his own  _ways_  of capturing me back with his carbon-dioxide kisses, slipping away the oxygen from my breaths and numbing my almost loveless heart to a new high. His heart-ache dug the grounds deeper in my chest, carved his want on the bones of my gasping ribs.  
 _Was fucking anything different?_  We were just making indentions within each other. _Scratching, clawing, and painting red and purple drunken contusions on pastel-print skin._

White-washed fragments of the night before stabbed their way back to the crusted joints belonging to my mind; the usually gentle sunlight seemed so harsh in contrast to the long-gone returning memories with their fluorescent blue glow.

 **  
_Tock, tick, tock, tick._   
**   
_  
_   
_The metallic brown of the clock's lengthy arms ticked, taking an absurd course descending to the back; three, two, one, twelve..._   
__

__  
_Backwards; like the sounds erupting from his aubergine striped lips; asphyxiated, lustful and tear grappled._   
_  
_   
_All in a daze, we saw stars, planets and moons colliding and crashing against our bodies and in our eyes._   
_  
_   
_His crystal sharp kisses traced along my perspiring neck, slashing at the pulsating veins with his heated naked breaths; almost as if trying to break skin, to taste the rust circulating the porcelain limbs attached to my numbed self; and my numb eyes; my numb numb eyes, bordering on floating away to the darkness that merged with his locks, the halos beneath his spray-on pupils._   
__

__  
**  
_Still wet and glistening with deformed reflections of... me._   
**   
__

__  
_I could see his lips swallow back the moans and subtle kisses; the faint whispers of indistinguishable syllables had reversed in sound and effect._   
_  
_   
_It all moved prying back the curses and flames to the point of non-existence; a new reversed rebirth to all our actions; all of our sins concealed with our crazed imperfections._   
__

__  
**  
_Faint, faint 'I want you's' and silly, silly 'I need you's' tarnished my fingertips as they tiptoed over his supple dirty dirty tainted lips. Imperfect torn lips._   
**   
__

__  
_"...uoy evol I." Drawn out they come, stretched and defaced they lose their unbreakable glow. **Evol**  repeats and repeats drumming and kissing at my nonchalant eardrums._   
_  
_   
_It hurt conclusions and solved quarrels in my mind to hear these words get eaten back by time, by the illusions of this broken mind._

Against the crème sheets, I remembered those twisted images torn by these shooting pains and crepe-paper memories;  _so fragile and pretty decorating these crumbled thoughts._  
Like Gods reading the scripted night backwards, erasing painful little details wandering here and there; my mind proceeded to throb and throb away hiding the basic sketches underlining the bliss and pain that ravaged my body the evening before. ~~Bliss, bliss, bliss.~~  His trembling form, his shell-shock kiss; mind-blowing and sensually painful... even addictive.  
All still swimming in a  _blur_  of colors and fresh tears sweetly injected into our sun-caressed eyes.  _Both broken so carefully, our pieces so fitting with the life-long cracks imprinted within our hearts._

 _We leaned on each other for far too long._

I brushed away the particles of last night, mentally blowing away the haunting flashbacks and sitting upright; the whole scene wasn't a strange one, not at all.  
 _The same bed with the ice-thin sheets and creaking boards that screamed every night; almost louder than him._

My looks traveled to where he was; to meet his candy striped lips; bruised pale and crimson. They were shut tight as if denying the affection they gave and conjured. Even though the phantom of a smile hovered over his lips, something about it sent the shivers grazing my spine with their indentions, raiding the sickly churning ditch within my stomach.

"Fra..."  _One syllable and that's it._  
Holding a startled breath my eyes wandered just to crease at his sight, sleep slurring at his eyelids.  
Seconds passed stressful against my caught up breaths. He was wide awake now; staring back at me with disobedient lashes, battling out the invading light; they fluttered and fluttered like wings of a dying butterfly.  _Scary in a sense._

"Damn Frank... close the blinds," his low voice came out soft, flowing in the room's dead silent air, easing my frayed nerves.

 _Inhale, exhale..._  I breathe as I watch him lazily rise up and chase away the electric blue gleam adorning his stray hairs by brushing it away with reluctant fingertips; those strange skin coated articles and their delicately painted veins.  _How can brushes and pens contort such exquisite forms? But yet again... he was imperfect._ Just how I like my Gerard Way. Incomplete, needy; flawed even to the most forgiving soul.

"Frankie..." Oh God;  _that name._  I detested it, loathed it,  _loved_  it at the same time. _Age doesn't have to do with it, right? Frankie was a silly little name for silly little boy. No, no. No Frankie. Frankies hold onto the floors and cry wanting their mommies, Franks save their boyfriends and kiss them to sleep. Franks fix people while Frankies get fixed._ __

 __  
_No. No Frankies._

"Frankie..."

 _No. No Frankies._

" ** _Frank._** " An irritated groan sank from his lips into my ears.

"Yeah?" I replied, eyes focusing on the sheets covering my undressed waist, fingers fumbling with the smooth edges and curves;  _good. No Frankies. Frankies are what Gerard likes; adorable, messed up and lost. No Frankies._

"Come here, Frank," He reached out, his fingers landing on the exposed flesh off my torso, resting his watchful stares to the back of my head, "Come here,  _Frankie..._ " A smirk ascended, evident in his voice as he repeated again, adding that horrid name my ears refused to swallow.  ** _No Frankies._**   _The bastard's enjoying this._

I pause and stop, switching looks from the bed sheets to those strange fingers of his, drawing me next to him.  
Slowly, he shuffles closer to me, battling the creased sheets wrapping our obscene insecurities. His fingers tighten their grasp as he connects his body to mine and latches those cracked lips to the crook of my neck;  _like it didn't hurt enough._

He wanted us to sit there; still like a clichéd caricature of wasted hearts deflated by rapid punctures of need and sex.  _Yet, it wasn't to be laughed at._

"Why're you so quiet? You sure weren't last night..." His crooked smirk twisted against the stiffening nerves of my skin and the heaving veins within the back of my neck;  _sick, sick smirk that had nothing to do stir but it all up inside._

"What do you want me to say?" From the corner of my eyes I slide a glance that bore daggers and stars.  _Again with that question._

"Anything... I don't like the Frank I'm holding," he whispers his straining breaths staggering to tickle the hairs crowning my face in a sloppy manner, "I want my perfect Frankie to speak up..." His whispers sway softer and smoother as disdain drew on my furrowed brows;  _not that **perfect**  shit again._

 _But strawberry flavored lips do not tell lies, Frank._ _  
_ _They don't._  Won't these synchronized lies stop or even pause for a minute?

The sickly alluring smell of acid reached my already wrinkled nose; as if I'm not already sick; sick, sick, sick to the stomach; sick up to the thoughts and fantasies stewing up in my brain as I viewed those dazzling eyes approach mine, eating up everything materialized beneath my fingers and above my head.

"I'm not your  _Frankie_ , Gee. Never was," I stared at those hazels that stood hopeful, tired, brimmed with colors that differ in shades and vary, each stroke of gold and brown bearing a palate of emotions broken down into those glints, those unseen tears coating his eyes.

 _Eyes that stood in vain; pretty, dreamy, portrait eyes._

"Then who  _are_  you?" my imperfectly fitting  _almost_  lover asked, "Who are you, Frankie?"  
 _Someone who doesn't take his **I love you** s back._ Someone who doesn't draw rings and halos upon sinners. Someone who isn't your  ** _perfect_** _Frankie._  
Someone who doesn't live in your fantasies or the tunnel of your eyes treading on the hazel and ore ever so gently, but I'm not even close to that; you just like mind-fucks.

"You know you're my perfect, Frank," He kisses the hidden veins beating and detaining the rage and resentment pumping in this usually solitary heart.  _This wasn't meant for two; shattered heart attacks will tear us both apart; the perfect and imperfect; even if those are lies that guide your sanity to the point of no-return._

"But you're not..."  _Silence._

Just like yesterday; the heavy crushing lack of sound that mars your nerves. Just like when our hearts sing to each other enclosed in darkness and sweat, clear and red.  
 _I just want to break you down so gently,_ _  
_ _Like the pieces of already fractured crimson you are,_ _  
_ _Break you down bit by bit, decorate you with kisses._

No-one knew who was singing it, it just always hung there in the backs of our minds; like the axis that all of our touches revolved around; invisible but there,  _just there._

"I know..." His whispers  _stabbed_  the silence; just like that.  _Stabbed it._  
His breathes sunk in deeper into my mind with each one he took.

 _What am I supposed to say to that?_  Croon him into the abyss of his flaws and implode his gentle sermons in my ears? The ones embedded in my scorched heart?

Nothing. Say nothing. I just reel my gaping lips towards his and kiss him blocking the silent smirks and those lines of smiles; those words clamped within his throat waiting to scratch and cure and coddle me in shame and content.

He kissed me back; he kissed me back knowing that it was just to kill his words before they revolted past those colorless lips; he kissed me back knowing that my eyes were piercing the space between us and digging at the walls beyond his head, picking at the painted walls and the curled coats of green and aqua sick blue.

Claiming this ordeal of a heart was always a challenge not to be taken easily; _perhaps it needs another kick in the ribs to beat? To stop shivering?_

 _I don't want to see regret and blood carved in your neck, kisses and bites look better sculpted into your borrowed veins, babe._   
_  
_   
_Run away, babe. I'll only butcher your style in a most elegant manner._

I knew he wouldn't though. My Gerard wouldn't; a sucker for treading painted eggshells and glass consciences, he was; hoping he'd only get out with the cuts and bruises upon his drained bloodless fingers.

I kissed him with all the dried passion accumulated within my throat, avoiding those mud green shadows and turning looks to those coal locks;  _those feelings again_ ; black sizzling kisses of tar fray the already unwilling heart I held close under these hands.

Watching those beautifully lined eyes brought back the songs and hymns;  _I wonder if hears them, too..._ _  
_ _Songs were always his forte..._  
 _I just wanna break you down so gently..._ __

 __ ** _There it goes again..._**  blood curdling, scary and so unusually soft... so close to nibbling on our distant minds, feeding on the scarce sanity and purity clinging to last fibers of thought, broken smiles and attacked hearts.

Intricate, intricate shivers twirled amidst the jolts of wavering emotions, grinding at our ribcages, condemning the guilt silencing his stares more than mine;  _twitches and uncertain hands don't tear up his posture for no reason._

Kisses fed on guilt, hopeless gestures devoured ill intentions splayed on the graveyard of his face and emotions; the break in his pride more apparent as his thoughts whimper for me to consider him  _perfect_ ; to see him in the same light he views me in.

Sadly, I can't... I have no light to guide me to his pretty pretty face.  
Your silly love poisoned the limbs I use to look up to your celestially profound cuts that formed a most sinister maze across your heart; a labyrinth I didn't want to get out of no matter how ugly and fucked up it is.

 _You'd think I'd give up after the first trip and fall... but no_ ; grin and pick myself up; you have to hold up that smile for him to see...

After all... you  _are_  here to break him; his interior burnt circuits are already externally exposed in the most obscene manner for my unwilling eyes.  
I had to see every ghastly sear every time he'd speak, sing, or even throw forlorn looks at passing lovers; he was broken. That's why I'm not his  _Frankie. **Frankies can't fix people, especially Gerards...**_

With a hesitant breath I pull away, letting go of his lips parting the wounded intimacy that comforted out strained thoughts...  _even if it was only for seconds._  
Deep breaths hung in the atmosphere as his hazels attempt to cling to the greens facing them despair leaking, begging for one stare back but no such luck... the escaping greens settled on one thing alone; the unmoving silhouette of swaying wisps of shadows and sly fingertips treading stained skin.

 _Fuck..._   
__

__  
_Now he'll talk..._

The select electric blue streaks of sun in his hair wavered as he merged his finger caressing the exhausted rings decorating his eyes as he attempted to rest and coddle his disappointment once again; moons and stars splashed across his glistening looks igniting the heart-ache to another extent of fiery ashes; did he want to be  _my_  perfect that bad?

 _Here it goes again; the Russian roulette of us; blank, blank, blank, blank... BANG!_   
_  
_   
_Right to the heart; bullet to ego; he went right through me..._

"I wanna sleep like I never exist..."  
 _Blank._

"Like I never did..."  
 _Blank._

"Dent and cut myself up to fit into this mold of dreams you have set up in the banner..."  
 _Blank._

"...embracing your  _flawless_  heart."  
 _BANG!_

In a blur of last night sex and withered emotions, I closed my eyes staring at the swirls of green and red sparks glaring at me behind the delicate lids of skin blocking him out; not flawless, not flawless;  _flawed! **Flawed heart!**_

Moons crashed again, burning the bland taste of the kiss resting against my lips, biting guilt deeper into the backbone of the strained motions allocated within the cornered joints of my fingertips; kissing his cheeks, kissing his rebelling wisps of black,  _kissing, kissing, kissing... his perfectly, perfectly kissable lips with those sinister tips._

Blank, blank, blank, then  _BANG_ , babe... shot me right in the heart again. Your damaged words have always had that  _perfect_  aim.

Maybe it's because he took them back that I'm fidgeting on the edge of abandoning those blood painted hazels and let them fall; let them free fall without a  _Frank_  to set up the safety net or simply...  _catch them_.

This picture of us... seems so... broken; abstract and surreal at the same time; do I love him? Did he love me? The light wiped away all the facts connecting the words with the paints of sentiments stuck to our undressed bodies from previous contact.

 _Was it me or him? Even my own body is refusing to tell me..._  
Who squirmed under the collision? Who touched, kissed first?  _Who were we?_  
Love doesn't give the happy answer to everything;  _to the questions that needs to be answered the most..._

Rambles, rambles, rambles flowing out of these tackled thoughts almost taking over this baffled moment, frozen on his face...

Regaining focus and grasping his looks, I let a smile run away among the crowd of stares strangling all the ease from this atmosphere; the sun, the electric blue, the lavender shades, the crème sheets...

"Hi," Was the simple phrase that merged along with a grin. Simple; keep it simple. _Nothing was worth a smile; nothing was worth even speaking... break this apart._ _  
_ _Let's start over, shall we?_

"Hello," Came the counteracting baby-faced smile with the awaited reply.  
 _Play along, Gerard. You were always the actor; improvise more emotions, more stand-out destructive moves._  
Turmoils boiled within skin as soft playful touches scampered around detecting baby-faced liars and break-out fakes of the year... strange inadequate words stuttered and sewn to fit other lips; lips worth the imperfection and guilt opposing the lips resting behind unveiled smirks. Razing smirks; seared egos, anyone?

His smile remained still on his proficiently crafted face as scenic green shaded hazels looked down at my scampering fingers racing to run away from his day-dreaming own.

"Am I that dirty? That the fingers that longed to touch me the most now scatter away, imprinted with the shameful remains of yesterday?"  
Articulate; even with blame dripping from those lips and those disturbingly serene temples cruising the skin of the body exposed before him.

Dirty? No, babe...  
 _Terrifying more like it._

Those eyes... they made my heart beat and shrill; they crept up and blew and blew against the back of your head, a certain chill accompanying rigid icy stares.

 _Go away, go away, go away; Frankie doesn't like this Gerard. He wants his soft-eyed smiling Gerard. The one I had to fix and kiss to sleep. The one who let me be **Frank** cornering his vaguely amused smirks._

Misplaced kisses initiated this argument tasseled between our eyes; between our copy-paste hearts. Just duplicate old words and inscribe them down onto your lips without any fragment of regret.  _It's not like he could tell._  
Those lipstick red lies planted on his neck stared back at me, wide-eyed and narrow-hearted;  _remember what you strived to forget?_

Rude, vulgar shades of almost blue glared back at my lips for their painful existence on the innocent weaved white of his shoulder blades.  
 _How can something so beautiful result in such tasteless scares?_

Those chrome fingertips so smooth, so shiny; they never left marks on my skin; _Frank’s skin to be exact. They littered Frankie's hips and back like leeches, black and proud._

That's why  _Frankie_  didn't like this Gerard.  
 _He hurts._

His eyes frowned upon seeing the continuation of my limbs' ceaseless efforts to dance away from every trace of him; from every pout and stare.

"We're gonna get childish now, are we?" The shadow of a smile smeared his frown as he was evidently pondering regarding this abrupt change of heart (and mood really).

"Yes," I simply answer without even bothering to sound like I'm attempting to hide it. Hypocrisy can wait.

 _Fuck. I wanna be Frank again. I don't wanna live within these glass bones. I don't wanna be shattered within this breakable delicate coat of myself._   
_  
_   
_Fuck._

Gerard sighed, fingers finally dying out of their will and reluctantly resting next to his side; those electric blue shades spitting at my direction as he shifted his looks elsewhere; shameful?  
Those bedroom eyes can't utter more than smiles and smirks so they just shut up. He takes them away and hides them because he can't yell at  _Frankie._

 _Frankie's scared of Gerard, Gerard's in love with Frankie while Frank loves Gerard and Gerard dislikes Frank._  
Different needs, same objective; look for love. A mismatched joke;  _they all want to fix, not be fixed._

It's all wasted breaths and consumed waves of colors, in addition to thrown away sleep; just copy-paste hearts wanting to undo things. How he's my imperfect and I'm his perfect.

 _Copy, paste, copy, paste cover up these kindled errors and heal them away with tricks instead of clicks._

Gerard raped Frankie while Frank made love to Gerard; both cases weighed down on my ribcage; the inwardly conflicting light-headed entrancement of Frank and Frankie's tears shredded these arteries apart; and those shredded arteries are still lying on Frankie's back, standing out black and proud.

Quietly, he plays with the delicate fabric as I pull and cover myself once again, burying my face into the moist feather stuffed darkness, shutting off the start of an upcoming migraine.

 _I just wanna break you down so... **Here it goes again...**_  
I can swear his lips are singing along to it; I can see them dragging the words out with docile strokes of that deflated ego of his.

He paints these walls with tolerant smiles and lies better than the canvas corpses behind his doors.

 _Paint those walls with blurs of plush love, Frank. Don't let Frankie touch these paints, though. He'll scratch and scrape Gerard's face until he lets go; until it fades, fades, fades and dies from his head._  
His songs are torching this sanity; songs were meant to be heard, to please; not to torture, not to violate, to intimidate...  
 _To please..._

Oh, how they please; they please the hearts of children, adults, black and blue stamped adolescents and the vulnerable chests of people like us;  _hopelessly devoted and blatantly beautified._

 _Beauty is perfection, right?_  
And that's what Gerard sought in Frankie; he was beautiful; delicately designed and tailored, peering out from the brim of my eyes whenever it's dead and quiet within my head.

 _We're all beautiful, but not in the way we want to be; not in the way we want to be seen._

He spun the looks rolling in the back of his eyes, with rows of tender vulnerable thoughts, around to face me after they painted and inscribed last night's regrets in the distant groves of those peeled walls grimacing back at us.

Indifferent and frozen they march, scorching my face with their cold blaze of pretty electric blue and sunlight. I could clearly see under those crystallized layers of studded ice, I could see the fiery core of their sinister galore; the rage crushing and melting as it spits urges, desires and pleas at me:  _"Why can't I be your perfect?"_

 _Because perfection doesn't exist in my vocabulary, doll._

Clean backs, tattooed backs with unbroken skin don't mean perfection, but what lies behind the tattoos, what simmers under the porcelain skin only can be considered perfect, complete and  _wholesome._

These drawings, needle-carved into my flesh, were meant to hide; not tear more secrets and expose those infected rumors breeding within my veins. They were meant to deform him. To abolish Gerard's perfect within tainted chemical paints.  _To make him love **me** , instead of that broken heap of adorable bones,  **Frankie.**_

I buried myself within myself as his orbs ran across my face, examining the lack of response and connection to everything surrounding us; after the stares my eyes abandoned their abode.

The thoughts of burial lifted me to other places in my memoirs, where honest kisses roamed the back of my neck sending the hair in wild frenzies of almost static as bodies pounded and cried absorbing each other's pleasure and pains, adorned by lustful moans and tense stomachs.

 _I wanted that back. Pleasure seeping and drenching our bodies as those sweet colors formed at the tips of our fingernails to stain ivory and panting red._

He looked at me, staring with those amber tinted hazels soothed by brushes of glimmering rays, still peeking from the open curtains with newfound shyness... like it didn't want to disturb the sinuous impasses splattered across this room.

If it wasn't for those looks scalding my flesh alone, it had to be the hand lain across my chest and the fingers spread across this heart, sensing the fragments ripping into pools of its own shards, each delving higher and deeper into the scattered insides, threatening that this bag of golden skin and diamond bones might implode.  
The key word here is  _might._

An urge to just rise up and leave him -eyes pressed against walls- poured over the tip of my thoughts, but more like little droplets of sweet rain; unnoticeable but felt, irresistible when noted.

Frankies always succeed in slyly murdering the track of my thoughts, leaving synthetic hallow grins displayed whenever I'm off-guard; even when everything was spiraling down this hell-hole of a world, they still left smiles; timeless smiles.

Dented smiles were left out in the open for Gerard to pick up and mend those blurred lips lines and unread emotions crawling within the deceased illusions of undressed perfect grins.

One night of this unseen bloodshed, of drugged-up sentiments, of invisible warning signs being broken so frequently and repeatedly to the point that the bleeding stubs have sunk in too deep, crippling the wooden stares; thus deforming the tedious flow of the night.  
The arrogantly refined lines of his frown reached my eyes, holding the same question; in a broken record-like manner it flickered under his eyelids and above his lashes.

A green dirty tint infested his glances as the glare tapered to oblique subtle sidelines framing his mouth.  _I knew what was wrong._  
Fucked as it is he despised Frank; for shielding poor miserable Frankie.

 _Fucked._

Frankie, Frank, even Satan. I don't give a shit.  
I loved him, he loved the...  _not me_.

Fucked.

The blistered adhesive used to keep  _them_  together crumbled apart into ugly messes of bone-white flakes and honey-torched scraps of molten selves; and burning sweet like caramelized drops of heaven, an imagery of defeat cascaded from within my head, almost over-spilling over my hunched shoulders.

The covers were off now; literally and metaphorically.  
 _Don't know how, though..._

His paralyzed exhales penetrated the stunned silence as the slight blows of mist caress the floor beneath my eyes.

 _His fingers lightly touch mine..._   
__

__  
_Screams, crashing gasps erupt from his candidly lust-fucked lips as he moves against and into me, in, in, in, IN!_   
_  
_   
_"No, no, no, no, NO!" My clenched teeth struggled not to chop off my squirming tongue._   
__

__  
_The more the friction, the harder to navigate my thoughts and moans from grazing against his neck; **who were we at this stage?**  The question wrung the throat of the baby unwanted lust sprouting within the spider-web moans and tears; all clung and so delicately woven around the piled up corner bricks tossed in the pit of the thoughts abandoned long ago._   
__

__  
_Smothered with kisses, pain and want took turns raiding my figured and clenched fingers; every thrust and grunt peeling my eyes open more forcefully than red-heated razorblades plunge into open skin._   
__

__  
_As clichéd as it sounds **bodies entwined** , bodies cried, bodies wrangled and collapsed as release rocked both into spiraling mind quakes and body spasms._

Tiny little jabs still adorned his breastplate to match the ones implanted within his back in cursive shades of blushing baby pink.  
Toxic hurtful glimmers ran through his eyes as he -seemingly- reminisced at his own version of the night before's heat.  
Soft pink-powdered smiles spattered his lips as he slowly lay back again on the sheets, next to me, skin kissing exposed skin.  
He held my hand, fingers interlacing so intensely, bordering on almost making  _love_. I watch him from the corner of my eye, curled lips protruding in a thoughtful pout.

"Frankie?" His voice raped the silence with warm tones matching the sun's yellow floating dreams.

"Hmm?" My suffocated lack of interest stirred within my mouth.

" _I love Frank._ "  
 ** _BANG!_**


End file.
